Bulk
by LaylanatorXVII
Summary: Shaun is on the lam, and all he wants is some freaking cereal. However, the universe and that chick with the headphones seem determined that he isn't going to get it. In other words, Shaun and Rebecca meet, and immediately get off on the wrong foot. My slightly cracky version of how they met. Rated for language and mild violence. Implied S/R, sorta. Please review.


_A/N: Okay, so my brother begged me to write this one. I have obliged._

 _Based off the prompt: "_ tesco is having a sale on cereal and i want a box but there are none left because you have literally ten boxes in your basket"

 _Okay, so I am socially crippled and had no idea what tesco was, so I immediately thought of this scenario in an actual grocery store. So here you go._

 _Anyway, so yeah. This is my version of how Shaun and Rebecca met. Whatever._

 _Also, I did a lot of complicated (not really) math, and made Shaun 18 and Rebecca 22, so she's not a total cougar. If you want details on the math, ask in a review and I shall deliver._

 _Also, credit goes to my little sister for the slogan for the cereal._

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** If I owned Assassin's Creed, it would be revealed at the end of the series that we are actually Desmond's descendant, reliving Desmond's memories, and therefore, _his_ ancestors' memories. Since this theory has been trashed, you can infer I do not own Assassin's Creed. All rights to Ubisoft. The bastards.

 **Warnings:** Language and mild violence.

* * *

Constructive criticism: accepted.

Flames will be used to throw a barbecue.

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2006

Shaun clicked his heels back on the pedals and carefully steered the bike into the parking lot. With one hand he reached up and pushed his glasses back into place from where they had started slipping down the bridge of his nose, all the while scanning the area for anything suspicious.

Seeing nothing, he glided across the lot and carefully leaned his bike up against the wall of the building. He stepped back for a moment and examined it, sighing deeply.

It wasn't much, just a regular bicycle with chipped paint and a faulty handbrake. He had purchased it for just thirty dollars at a garage sale. Of course, he would have preferred a car (being eighteen years old, he should have been able to) but unfortunately, a driver's license- and the car itself- tended to be too easily tracked, especially for someone in his position.

At the thought, he reached up and shifted the straps on his backpack, which contained his precious laptop and his meager supply of money, and entered the supermarket.

Let Operation Cereal commence.

O00o0o0o0oo0

Shaun knew it was not the smartest move he'd ever made, going out in broad daylight when Abstergo could be anywhere, but he decided it was a necessary evil. Opportunity cost, if you will. In any case, Shaun mused as he strode purposefully past the oranges and cucumbers, scanning the signs hanging over the aisles, he had better make quick work of this and get back to his hideout (an abandoned paper mill on the edge of town; the smell was unbearable. The rats were worse) soon as humanly possible.

There it was. Shaun quickened his steps and lengthened his strides until he was almost running. He swerved into his aisle, his elbow bumping a shelf and knocking off a package of ramen. He paid it no heed.

He screeched to a halt as he caught sight of a large sign proclaiming in bold letters, "SALE! 50% all Boxed Cereal." Perfect, this was the place.

Shaun started prowling down the aisle, searching the shelves for his target. Unfortunately, all too soon, he found himself face to face with a massive display of toilet tissue and realized he had walked straight out of the cereal aisle. Frustrated, he turned back and looked again.

"Oh, come on," he muttered irritably to himself. "I haven't got all bloody day."

He gave the aisle another sweep before stopping in the middle of the aisle, baffled. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he reached into his pocket and retrieved a much-folded sheet of newspaper, which he then proceeded to unfold and examine.

It was a collection of advertisements that the supermarket had put in the paper, showing that such things as lemons and potatoes were currently in sale. And, as the paper attested, cereal was also on sale, particularly Shaun's favorite brand.

O0o0o0o0o0o

Shaun had been on the move for almost two years now. It was sort of necessary, seeing as his internet pseudonym could only protect him for so long. And unfortunately, the constant moving made it rather difficult to hold down a job, and thus a consistent source of income. Therefore, his dietary choices were mostly limited to cheap packaged goods from late-night gas stations and, as luck would have it, cereal.

The first time he had experienced the wonder that was Ubi-O's, he had been in a hurry and simply snatched the cheapest box of cereal he saw. When he cracked the box open back at his hideout (then a dingy motel room that no one in their right mind would ever rent; in the three weeks he lived there no one else had even attempted to open the door once. He suspected it was the smell) he had eaten the entire thing in perhaps three minutes, tops. The cereal was by no means nutritious (it consisted mostly of chocolate flavored oats coated in chocolate and dusted with powdered sugar. Shaun refused to feel guilty, maintaining that someone in his position needed the quick energy), but man, was it good.

Good enough that he would risk a daylight excursion into town to procure it. Except some asshole had gotten here first (or, judging by the sizable gap in the shelf, a lot of assholes.)

All Shaun could do was sigh and make his way back out of the store.

"Looks like it's going to be cheap root beer and stale corn chips again."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Shaun was walking past the cashier when he saw it.

Standing at the counter was a woman, a few years older than he was, maybe. She looked generally normal, except for the fact that for some bizarre reason she was wearing headphones although they seemed to be attached to nothing at all, and were there simply for the sake of being there.

However, that wasn't what interested him (although she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes; he would later vehemently deny checking her out, even after being shamelessly teased and interrogated). What caught his attention was what was in her cart.

* * *

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Rebecca was not having a good day. Between the Animus (or what would be the Animus, she _would_ get it right someday, she swore) crashing, the blown tire on her car that had taken her fifteen minutes to change, and her total lack of success in finding that Guy Fawkes fellow (her sources said he was here, and unfortunately so would Abstergo's) she was about ready to go home and sleep for- I don't know, the rest of her life.

So when some crazy British nut job came up to here and started yelling about the cereal in her cart, she was _so done._

.*.*.*.*.

"Hey!"

Rebecca turned from counting bills from her wallet to see some irate blond dude standing at the end of her cart. He looked really, really angry for some reason.

She blinked. "Can I help you?"

He stared at her, seemingly lost for words for a moment. Then he suddenly reached down and snatched something out of her cart and held it up, shaking it slightly.

"Who needs _ten boxes of cereal?"_

Rebecca simply stared at the box for a moment, then down to the nine other boxes in her cart. The colorful design stared up at her, the slogan " _Just a glitch of sweetness!"_ scrawled across the front.

It wasn't her fault, really. She didn't like to go shopping often, as she spent most of her time working on Baby (as she had secretly named her project; she refused to feel embarrassed) and most of the time bought in bulk.

And goddammit, the cereal was _good._

Therefore, she simply replied, "I do. Now buzz off," and turned to pay the cashier, who was awkwardly fiddling with the last box of cereal (besides the one the moron was still holding) having just rung it up. She looked nervous. Rebecca couldn't blame her; the guy looked like he was about ready to start a fight right here and now.

Rebecca fished out the appropriate amount of money and looped her forearm through the plastic handle of the bags. Then she reached out and quickly snatched the box from the guy's hands.

Well, she tried to, anyway. The guy refused to let go. He clung like a leech, causing her to yank him forward into the cart, which then slammed forward into her, knocking the wind out of her. For a moment they simply stood there, wrestling over the box over the cart, leaning forward so as to reach. All the while the cashier stood there biting her nails and wringing her hands before finally putting her hands over her eyes in horror.

With a final wrench Rebecca gained possession of the (now dented) box, and kicked the cart in the psycho's direction, knocking him back. She turned and ran out the door while he was still stunned.

She yanked open the driver's side of her car and tossed the bags into the passenger's seat (except for the last box, which she cradled possessively in one arm) and slammed the door. She hit the locks for good measure. She had just cranked the ignition when she was startled by a loud thump on the window.

So her surprise, horror, and grudging respect for the guy's determination, the Brit was now plastered across her passenger's side window with an angry expression. He seemed to be yanking on the handle. She was glad she locked it; he looked about ready to commit murder.

0o0o0o0o0

* * *

Shaun was about ready to commit murder. And judging by the woman's slightly alarmed expression, he looked it, too. He was faintly aware that the cashier was probably calling the cops at this very moment, and that he was overreacting, really, but the awareness was just that: faint, and hilariously overwhelmed by the burning rage in the forefront of his mind.

He gave up on the handle and settled for slapping his palm against the window.

"Now, we can do this the easy way, or the ha-"

With a screech, she kicked the car into reverse and swerved out of the parking space, narrowly missing his arm from where he'd fallen in surprise.

He raised his head to see her tearing off down the parking lot. With a curse he stood, rearranged his crooked glasses and sprinted to his bike.

He swung a leg over, and almost before he was fully seated he was pedaling after her.

He barely registered the (extremely cliché) blank white van that pulled out from behind the building.

0o0o0o0

Shaun refused to admit defeat. Although it was obvious that the car (if you could call it a car: it had so many dents and scratches that he could barely imagine how it was still running) was steadily gaining ground, he continued peddling after it. Unfortunately, he lost a lot of ground when they came to an incline. When they crested over the hill he jerked his bike to a stop and sucked in a breath.

He released it in a loud yell of: "You may have won the battle, but you have not won the war! I ill find you! _Guy Fawkes will not forget this!"_

To his infinite surprise, the car screeched to halt. Unfortunately, it was also about that time when a hand (or many hands, he couldn't tell clamped down on his mouth and he felt himself being dragged into a van.

Maybe he shouldn't have screamed his Internet alias for the whole world to hear.

Damn.

* * *

.*.*.*.*.

Rebecca had to hand it to the guy: his resilience was unmatched. He was now riding after her on a bike, red in the face with exertion. Luckily (for her) she gained the advantage when they went over a hill. As she glanced in her rearview mirror, she noticed he'd stopped. She barely had a moment to savor her victory before he started yelling, and then-

 _What did he just say?_

She slammed on the brakes automatically, for a moment just staring out the windshield in shock. Then she whipped her head around to look behind her.

Holy shit.

A white van was parked in the middle of the street, five or six men in suits dragging the Brit inside. The doors slid shut and the van screeched into a U-turn and took off down the street.

Rebecca groaned and turned the car around, following the path the van had taken.

This was just not her day.

* * *

 _Review please!_


End file.
